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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26430955">I'm On Your Side, Son</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherfngrl/pseuds/anotherfngrl'>anotherfngrl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Alexander Hamilton D/s Verse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alex failing at being a functional human being, Alexander Hamilton Being an Idiot, Alexander Hamilton needs an adult, Canon Era, Discipline, Dom/sub, Dominance, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, George Washington is a Dad, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, M/M, Non-Sexual Submission, Polyamorous Alexander Hamilton, Punishment, Revolutionary War, Soldiers, Submission, Submissive Alexander Hamilton, d/s verse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:49:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26430955</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherfngrl/pseuds/anotherfngrl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason they called Washington's inner circle during the war The Family. It's been a long time since Alex had a family, but the General will find a way to make him understand he's not alone anymore. If Laf can just keep John from killing him, in the meantime.</p><p>**This is part of a D/s verse. This particular fic is a look at the paternal relationship between Alex and Washington within that universe. Specifically, we're looking at the first time Alex *really* screws up, under the General's command.**</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton &amp; George Washington, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens/Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Alexander Hamilton D/s Verse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1: Hercules Leaves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Sid, who wanted to see Washington handle Alex, and how Alex would deal with it. Apologies, this chapter is barely a prologue, but I've remembered Saturday *was* supposed to be my regular posting day! It's been slowly shifting toward Friday with the odd extra weekday update....</p><p>I'm putting a guide to the dynamics of everyone involved in this particular story at the end notes, if you haven't read my other fic in this verse! (And if you haven't, Welcome!)</p><p>PLEASE let me know what you think! And obviously, I respond well to requests for looks at specific moments/characters! Let me know what you want to see.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Continental Army is not the most well organized or obedient bunch of soldiers. They are a group of men with their own lives and lifestyles, who came together to oppose tyranny, not a fighting force who has trained together all of their adult lives. So Washington does what he can to impose discipline, but he’s smart enough to focus on the big picture and leave individual commanders to manage many of the details of their troops, their way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He openly laughs when Adams (John, not Sam, who is more realistic) writes to suggest that maybe he needs to learn from the British- unlike the Hessians, professional (barbaric) soldiers who are exclusively Dominants, the British believe in having a healthy number of switches in the middling ranks, with the idea that they’ll submit to their commander in the battlefield. The reason he laughs so openly at this is because </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> forces are men from all parts of the dynamic spectrum, and his two most problematic, disobedient soldiers are his own aides-de-camp, neither of whom is a Dom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though he supposes it’s hardly fair to lump John in with Alex. John is a much more respectful soldier, except when he’s backing his partner up. Washington hasn’t asked about the ins and outs of his right hand man’s relationship with the three other soldiers he’d called to them, but as Hercules, the Dom of the bunch, leaves them all to return to New York and run a covert, intelligence gathering operation, it becomes increasingly clear that their bond is more than brotherly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like to leave them,” Hercules had said, the day he and Washington stepped outside the lights of the fires to discuss his mission. “I know it’s war, and it’s dangerous, and that you’ll make smart decisions and they’ll be as safe as they would if I were here, but I don’t like to leave them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you their Dom?” Washington asks, surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m their Hercules. None of them </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> a Dom, for real. Well, Alex does, but he tries to pretend he doesn’t. And John does his best to fill, or subvert, that need,” Hercules explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll only be a couple of weeks,” George assures him. “And I’ll look after them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Alex I really worry about, and you take better care of him than I can usually manage to,” Hercules admits. “And we both know it’s only a couple of weeks </span>
  <em>
    <span>this time.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But it’s going to be longer, later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate what you’re doing for this Army,” Washington tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What we all do- our part. Whatever it is. Laf says that’s all we can do- our part today. The days will stack up on top of each other and hopefully at the end of it we’ll all be alive and victorious,” Hercules muses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry your part is different from theirs,” George says next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve always shone so bright. They’re loud- movers, thinkers, changers. They’ll change the world. I’m a tailor’s apprentice. I’m just glad that being that is going to let me help them,” Hercules tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hercules goes back to New York the next day for a couple of weeks to do some fact finding and lay groundwork for a daring bit of spying they've got planned. George keeps his promise and keeps an even closer eye than usual on his right hand man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex is skittish and nervy with him gone, spending his energy spinning himself up into stress without a battle to distract him. He talks about Hale a lot- the first spy they'd lost to Howe. George wishes he could assure the young sub that Hercules won't meet the same fate. But he can't, because he doesn't know. It's a risk the Dom took, because he believes in the cause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and John write voraciously, with every available moment. George and Lafayette spend hours tucked away discussing strategy, and when they surface, it’s always to pages and pages of new writing from the young men. It’s good- they believe in things deeply, and they write those beliefs movingly, clearly. These pages are rallying cries they need. They’re also a coping mechanism, clearly being used to distract the boys from their fear for their friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A more pressing distraction arrives less than a week after Hercules leaves. Howe’s troops are approaching. They haven’t truly had time to regroup for a battle- they need to defend their base without engaging directly. Once Howe's troops are a little less close, they'll return to the fort. But for now, the soldiers in the field need to try to avoid being captured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Washington spreads the men out across the land in small groups, ten soldiers to a post. Close enough to hear each other if help is needed. Not so many soldiers as to draw attention. He puts Lafayette on the most likely target, with a dozen soldiers. Takes the other himself.  Places John a little further afield. He seriously considers keeping Alexander with his own group, but he needs another leader. Places him on the edge, where any British scouting parties are likely to be so far afield as to miss them entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The men take their posts, and lie in wait.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2: Trouble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alexander is not happy to be so far from the action. When he sees a chance to prove to everyone how capable he is, he takes it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Last chapter was so short, so I'm updating again! Guys, my chapter lengths will be all over the place on this one. Let me know what you think!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alexander is furious, storming around the tent he shares with the rest of the revolutionary set. “Does he not think that I can fight?” he demands, breathing heavily.</p><p>“Every post needs to be defended. I’m not in the middle of the action, either,” John tells him.</p><p>“You’re a hell of a lot closer than I am,” Alex fires back. Laf opens his mouth. “And don’t you even start, Mr. High and Mighty Military Commander. You’re right in the thick of it.”</p><p>“Hopefully we will have no ‘it’ to be in, thick or no. This is all precautionary, little Alex. Any of us is as likely to find trouble as any other,” Laf reminds him.</p><p>“Ugh. How am I ever supposed to prove myself if he won’t let me try?” Alex demands.</p><p>“By doing your job, and guarding your post well. He did give you a team- the General would have been well within his rights to put you on his own team, or mine,” Lafayette points out.</p><p>Alex sighs. Command in the middle of nowhere is better than playing second fiddle somewhere else, he supposes. He just wants to be part of the action.</p><p>“Now, come and kiss me goodbye, and we will all do our best to make it back safely, yes?” Laf says.</p><p>He and John agree, and they all kiss for luck before going their separate ways. Once his men have found cover in their zone, Alex sits and fumes. Washington hid him, away from the action. The way he always does. Lafayette, John, and Hercules do it too. They keep him out of the excitement. They don’t get it- he’s a nobody submissive from nowhere. He’s going to die in obscurity if he doesn’t make a name for himself in this war.</p><p>When he sees the British scouting party, they’re so far out as to be laughable. They’re easily going to pass all of the Continental Army’s men and defenses, and be none the wiser. He laughs at their incompetence, until an idea occurs to him. He’s got the element of surprise on his hands, and there’s no telling how valuable they might be as prisoners.</p><p>His men want something to do, too. They all work together, moving quickly and quietly, to sneak up on the Brits. One of the youngest soldiers does ask about leaving their post unattended without word to the General, but Alexander shrugs- they’re too far off the beaten path to really be in a spot worth defending, anyway. Still, he spins a lie about the areas they’re guarding being larger, this far out. Tells them all it’s their duty to capture the British soldiers.</p><p>They track them, sneaking along the tree line, until the Brits stop for lunch. A few of them settle in for naps. It’s a small group- smaller than the ten men Alexander has been given, even. And with half of them asleep and the others eating, it should be easy.</p><p>Alex considers his next move carefully. The zones had been designed so that the groups could hear one another or send a runner quickly if something went wrong. They’re at least an hour’s walk from their zone now- there’s no chance of backup. So nothing can go wrong.</p><p>He makes a decision. His men will move into position, guns drawn, to fire upon the unprepared redcoats. Then, he’ll come out into the open and announce himself. Hopefully, they’ll surrender. If not, his men will take out as many as possible. As a scouting party, they should have valuable intel if they’re able to take any of the men alive.</p><p>With battlefield intel like this, the secondhand sort Hercules is working on in New York is less relevant. Maybe, if they can keep taking out British scouting parties, Herc can come home and stay. It makes Alex’s skin crawl to imagine his friend, alone in enemy territory trying to blend in with men he’s so close to he can measure their inseam, adjust their cuffs. </p><p>He’s proud of Herc for his daring, of course. But part of Alex wants to be the one doing the brave, risky thing. Putting his life on the line for his country. Finally, when they’d all pushed him to the side ‘for his safety’, he has a chance to shine.</p><p>And if the Brits don’t surrender, and he’s caught in the crossfire when they return fire on his men? Well, at least he’ll go down in a blaze of glory.</p><p>He shakes hands with his men as he sends them to their positions. They all take aim, and he gives the signal. A bird call he’d learned from John. Then he walks out into the open.</p><p>“Hello!” he says. “We’ve decided to capture you. But good news- my men won’t shoot, unless you reach for your guns.”</p><p>The leader of the British troops looks at him in startled confusion, putting down his drink. “You’ve what, now?” he asks.</p><p>“There’s a gun trained on each of you. And a few spares, just in case. I’m here to capture you, on behalf of the Continental Army. Surrender like men or die like idiots,” he offers, smiling cheekily.</p><p>The British commander stands up, walking towards him. That wasn’t actually against Alex’s instructions, so he doesn’t argue. Maybe the other officer wants to face defeat like a man. “You’re going to capture me, huh? And how do I know you’re not just one lonely, lost little Continental soldier, trying to brazen it out on his own?” he asks, challenging.</p><p>They’d planned for this. “Simmons!” Alexander calls. Simmons is the fastest of his men at reloading, and was positioned as one of the extras. A shot kicks up dirt and grass just in front of the British leader. “That one was a warning,” he tells the other man with a smile.</p><p>“On your feet, men,” the British officer calls. “We’ve been caught.”</p><p>The British soldiers are lined up in an orderly fashion, half of Alexander’s men guarding them while the other half gather up any supplies that can be taken from their campsite, including papers and their guns. Alex elects to leave the rest- as far as they are from the actual Continental Army, it will be good if someone goes looking for these men- it will throw the British off their tracks.</p><p>By the time Alex is confident they’ve got everything, it’s approaching dusk. They can’t stay put, though- someone could come looking for the scouts in the morning. Probably, everyone will be back at the camps by now.</p><p>It’s a long walk. Made longer by his determination to cover their trail. They do spend about an hour making a clear path toward a stream in the wrong direction, to further throw anybody tracking the British troops off their trail. Then, they make slow progress, covering their tracks as they go back to the camp.</p><p>It’s the middle of the night by the time they’re back, and the camp is oddly somber, and looks too empty. Alexander looks around worriedly but doesn’t see John or Lafayette- he hopes there hasn’t been a battle. If his friends have died while he was off chasing glory...</p><p>His heart is in his throat as he grabs the nearest officer, Charles Lee. “What’s happened? Where is everyone?” he demands.</p><p>“Hamilton?” Lee asks, startled. “Somebody get the General! Hamilton’s here!” he calls.</p><p>A runner goes for Washington’s tent, and Alexander looks around in confusion.</p><p>“Colonel Lee, permission to go after the scouts?” a young man in an enlisted man’s uniform asks.</p><p>“Go get them. Tell them their boy made it home on his own,” Lee agrees.</p><p>“What?” Alex asks, baffled.</p><p>“Your boyfriends are off searching for you. When you didn’t fall in, Lafayette went looking for you. He convinced the General to let he and Laurens take a few men to go find your group,” Lee tells him.</p><p>A hush falls over the area- Alex hadn’t even realized how loud the chatter had gotten. The General is here. “Sir,” he says, bowing slightly. He doesn’t know why he does it, only that he feels out of sorts at finding the camp in such disarray.</p><p>Washington shocks the hell out of him by pulling him into a hug. “Son,” he says quietly. He whispers, “Thank God you’re alright,” pressing Alex to his chest.</p><p>“Has someone gone for Laurens and Lafayette’s party?” Washington asks.</p><p>“They have. To tell them their little lost lamb has returned,” Lee sneers.</p><p>“What happened, son? Are those British soldiers?” Washington asks, suddenly noticing Alex’s men and their prisoners. He’s pulled Alex back, gripping him by his shoulders so he can see his face.</p><p>“We saw a British scouting party, way afield away from the defended area. We followed them, and captured them! And we left a fake trail, leading anyone who comes looking for them in the wrong direction,” Alex tells him excitedly.</p><p>“You abandoned your post to chase soldiers who were not a threat, risking your life and your mens’? And did not return to camp? All without letting anyone know?” Washington’s tone has grown dangerous, though he’s speaking quietly, where the camp at large can’t hear him. Lee clearly can, though, and he smirks at Alex over the General’s shoulder, and Alex feels his face heating up.</p><p>“We captured enemy soldiers and laid a trail that will further throw them off our position, sir,” Alex insists, trying to regain control of the situation.</p><p>Washington’s grip shifts to the back of his neck, and Alex feels like nothing so much as a scolded kitten as the General all but scruffs him. “Lee, get someone to arrange lodging for our new prisoners. Men, get some rest- you’ve earned it. Hamilton is with me.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3: Home Safe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alexander does not receive quite the homecoming he expected. Washington's reaction is bad enough, but then JOHN gets back. His family is not pleased with him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We are about halfway done with the story- I put a guess that it's going to be six chapters, but I keep considering changing up how I'm ending it.</p><p>I'm still failing at tagging, but considering trying to make  "Alexander Hamilton needs an adult" a legit tag? How many people/times would we have to use it? Because TBH, he almost always does.</p><p>If you're reading and enjoying, I'd love to hear from you! I still haven't found Hamilton fans to chat with, outside of this site!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alex is shocked by how badly his return to camp has gone. He’d thought everyone would be pleased by the intel and prisoners he’d managed to gather. It hadn’t even occurred to him how late it’s gotten, or how worried the Family would be. Washington’s reaction makes it immediately clear just how badly he’s miscalculated.</p><p>The General half drags him back to his personal tent, where he sleeps and maintains an office. Alex just tries to keep his feet under him. He’s utterly stunned when Washington releases him in the tent, wheeling around to glare at him furiously.</p><p>“Of all of the foolhardy, asinine-” the General berates him.</p><p>“I captured <em> prisoners!” </em> Alex reminds him.</p><p><em> “You let us think you were dead!” </em> The General roars. “Lafayette and Laurens were beside themselves. I’ve been going back and forth between a letter to Mulligan and one to Martha, trying to tell them I’d let you get yourself killed. Or at the very least captured- do you have any idea what we would have had to trade away, to get you back?”</p><p>“Well, I’m fine. And not as useless as you all seem to think,” Alex growls back.</p><p>“Well, if we’re measuring usefulness by the ability to follow orders and <em> defend your assigned zone-” </em> The General pauses. Alex takes a step back, startled by how much what he knows would’ve been the rest of that thought hurts.</p><p>“I brought back the enemy,” he whispers, hating how teary he sounds.</p><p>“I can’t deal with you until I’ve calmed down,” Washington tells him. He looks startled too, at what he’d almost said. It doesn’t make Alex feel any better.</p><p>Assuming he’s been dismissed, Alex turns to return to his quarters. John and Laf will be back soon, though they’ll probably yell at him too. He wonders if someone will write Herc, so he can yell at Alex as soon as he gets back as well.</p><p>“Where do you think you’re going?” Washington demands.</p><p>“To my tent?” Alex says, confused by the question.</p><p>“Oh, no. You’re staying right here where I can keep an eye on you. At attention.” Alex just stares at him, confused. “I said at attention, soldier!” Washington barks.</p><p>Alex immediately snaps to attention. It suddenly hits him that he’s done more than angered the people who he cares about- he’s disobeyed a direct order from the General. Abandoned his post. Led his men on an unauthorized operation. He’d thought he was showing initiative. Proving his worth. Instead, he’s disgraced himself. He feels tears threatening, and tries to bite them back. Washington turns away, rereading the letters on his desk. They sit in that heavy, charged silence as Alex silently berates himself.</p><p>There’s a commotion outside the tent. Alex hears Lee’s voice, high and stressed. “You can’t go in there!”</p><p>John Laurens comes crashing through the tent flaps. “I’m his Dom and I demand my right to stand for him,” he announces, not even pausing to look at Alex.</p><p>Someone’s obviously told John what happened. And John, being a real soldier, not an idiot like Alexander, immediately realized how badly he’s messed up. And somehow, even though he’s sure John is furious with him, his friend is trying to protect him from a fate Alex hadn’t even realized until this moment is probably awaiting him.</p><p>Public punishments in the camp are rare, but sometimes necessary. The Continental Army has decided on floggings as the most efficient form of retaining order, when jailing soldiers is impractical. Though, for abandoning his post, Alex could probably technically be put to death. He knows Washington would never do that to him- still, he’s almost certainly going to be publicly whipped. His mouth goes dry at the thought- the pain will be bad, but the humiliation is far worse.</p><p>“No,” Washington tells John simply.</p><p>“No?” John shakes his head. Some of his hair has come loose and it’s all in his face. “What do you mean no? I demand-”</p><p>“No, you aren’t his Dom, and no, you aren’t standing for him,” Washington tells him.</p><p>“Alexander, kneel,” John barks out. Alex knows what the other man wants- if he kneels, it proves he obeys John. Which means John should have been able to keep him in line, and can be held responsible for Alex’s failures. But they’ve spent a lot of time desensitizing Alex to John’s orders. He remains on his feet, unwilling to let the other man take punishment he’s earned.</p><p>Washington’s eyes flick to him briefly. “That may be the first smart choice you’ve made all day, son,” he says, granting Alex the smallest nod of approval before refocusing on John. As horrible as all this is, Alex is glad he at least had the honor not to let his friend take on his mistakes. The General would’ve known it was a lie, and he couldn’t bear to disappoint his mentor again tonight.</p><p>“I’m not going to let you string him up out there and beat him. He already has enough trouble with the others- Lee gives him hell, sir, and the bastard’s already <em> salivating </em> at the thought of Alex ‘put in his place’. Alex works <em> so hard </em> to earn the men’s respect, sir… if they’ve seen him like that-” John has tried bravado, and failed. It seems he’s resorting to begging, now.</p><p>“I do not need your approval to deal with my men as I see fit, John. And I’m not going to deal with him publicly anyway. He’s as much my boy as Jack- I won’t see one of my boys put through that.” Washington speaks quietly, obviously trying to reassure John.</p><p>Alex feels worse. Jack is Jacky Curtis, who he’d briefly met at King’s College. Washington’s step son, from Martha’s first marriage. Hearing his importance to the General stated so plainly should make him feel good, but it only reminds him that his behavior doesn’t only reflect badly on him. There’s enough talk of his relationship with Laf and John that they’re tainted by it, too. And everyone in camp knows he’s the General’s right hand. His disobedience reflects poorly on his mentor, as well.</p><p>“I’m sorry, sir,” he whispers, the lump in his throat growing.</p><p>Both men turn to look at him. “You need to go, John. Get his cot from your tent, I want it brought in here for tonight at least. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with him, yet, but it’s better that I keep him with me, out of sight of the rabble, until I’ve decided.”</p><p>John nods and goes, without so much as speaking directly to Alex. The General sits down and writes quickly, handing Lafayette the sheet he’s been scribbling on when he and John return a few minutes later with the cot. Alex remains miserably at attention, and neither man looks directly at him.</p><p>They’re at the opening of the tent when Laf turns back. “I am glad you are okay, <em> mon ami,” </em> he says simply, and pulls John back out of the tent.</p><p>Alex has been crying quietly for a few minutes, as the sheer magnitude of his failures descends on him. He forces himself to stay silent- a trick he’d mastered as an orphaned clerk on Nevis- and holds his position.</p><p>Washington crumples one of the papers on his desk and looks up at Alex, really seeing him for the fist time since John had tried to get him to kneel. Alex had been doing his best to remain at attention, but under the General’s gaze he falters, swaying slightly. Resisting John had taken most of the energy he had left- feeling sorry for himself seems to be absorbing the rest.</p><p>The General stands up. “Oh, Alex,” he says, worry clear in his tone. “What am I going to do with you?” </p><p>Alex has no idea, so he shrugs miserably, wishing he weren’t at attention so he could scrub the tears off his cheeks.</p><p>“At ease,” Washington tells him. “John and Gil have gone to organize some food. Do you need medical treatment?”</p><p>“I’m fine. We only fired one shot- a warning. They didn’t even manage that,” Alex whispers, looking at the floor now that he’s no longer standing at attention and frantically scrubbing the tears off of his face.</p><p>“Do you have any idea how lucky you are?” Washington asks, his voice rising in frustration. He shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “Nevermind. We're going to talk tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. Once I’ve calmed down enough to deal with you. For now, sit. You look like death, son.” Washington frowns at the mental image.</p><p>Alex can’t seem to get the tears to stop. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.</p><p>Washington just looks tired. He’s never thought of the General as old, but it suddenly strikes him how much the mantle of command weighs on the other man. “We’ll  discuss that later, son. For now, sit. John and Gil will bring food. We’ll get some sleep. It may not be better in the morning, but it won’t be worse and we’ll be more able to face it,” he decides, reaching out to squeeze Alex’s shoulder gently. Alex can’t help leaning into the touch, and the General unbends enough to cup the side of his head, pulling Alex against him in a hug. Somehow, in Washington’s arms, he’s able to get control of himself, and he’s no longer crying when his mentor releases him.</p><p>Alexander sits in one of the chairs across from Washington’s desk. He’s barely settled when John comes in- trailed by Lafayette. “Can we stay?” John asks, hesitant, as he unpacks enough food for all four of them. In the chaos of thinking Alex was missing, it doesn’t look like any of them ate.</p><p>“You were as worried as I was,” Washington allows. “Join us.”</p><p>They’re short a chair, but Laf pulls the trunk over and uses that, and they all eat quietly over the General’s desk, everyone sneaking looks at Alex occasionally. He knows he looks wretched, but he can’t imagine why that’s drawing so much attention.</p><p>“Stop staring at me,” he pleads quietly, when he catches Laf doing it again.</p><p>“Stop <em> staring </em> at you?” John demands, standing up and bracing his arms on the table. “Alex, we thought you were <em> dead. </em> Captured, at best. Laf and I went out there, looking to die to rescue you if we had to. Avenge you if it was too late. I have my knife unsheathed in my pocket, because if they had you the best plan we had was to get ourselves captured and <em> kill them all with our own two hands. </em> There’s enough muttering about favoritism around here, Washington couldn’t send a big party to recover you guys. We figured if you’d been taken prisoner, we’d send our men back and Laf and I would have a last stand.”</p><p>Alex gapes at him. He imagines John, bloodthirsty and desperate, killing redcoats to save him. Pictures Laf, taking lives with the same easy grace he does everything, blood catching in his curls as he whirls on the enemy. “I do not think you realize, our little lion, what it did to all of us to imagine you gone,” Laf adds quietly.</p><p>Alex looks around the desk. John is… gutted, is the best word for the other man. As if the fury that had pressed him to find Alex had burned out and he’s too tired to put anything in its place. Lafayette hardly looks better. Scrapes from sneaking through the brush mar his pretty face, and there’s an exhaustion to him Alex has never seen before.</p><p>“I don’t know what we would’ve told Hercules. I promised him we’d keep you safe,” John whispers. Lafayette reaches out, holding him close. Alex doesn’t know what to do.</p><p>“The Family needs you, son,” Washington tells him. The Family is the informal name that’s been given to them as Washington’s inner circle, but it’s a more appropriate epithet than most people realize. Alex should be proud to be vital to the group. Instead, he just feels guilty.</p><p>Especially given what his stunt has done to the people he loves. He looks around the desk again, meeting each of them’s gaze in turn. “I don’t know what to say, except that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Alex tells them.</p><p>Washington shakes his head. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow, when we’re rested. For now, I’m going to go walk the camp, before everyone turns in for the night.” John and Laf both nod at him, understanding- they’re being given a few minutes alone.</p><p>John pulls him close, kissing his face, as soon as Washington is out of the tent. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says. “And I’m going to beat whatever’s left of you when Washington’s done bloody.” Alex has never heard the other man sound so… purely Dominant.</p><p>“You are not his Dom, <em> mon cher,” </em> Laf reminds him.</p><p>“Well, someone clearly needs to be, if this is what he gets up to left to his own devices,” John growls.</p><p>“An unattached submissive is the father’s responsibility. I think Washington has the issue well in hand,” Laf insists. He looks like he’s seriously considering pulling Alex away from John- Alex clings tighter, hoping he won’t. It wouldn’t go well for any of them.</p><p>Alex knows John doesn’t mean what he’s threatening. John is a safe, sane Dom. Consent is important to him, and can’t be given under duress. He would never actually beat Alex, even if Alex had consented to punishment- which he hasn’t. Somehow, he almost wishes John would, just so he can stop feeling so damn guilty.</p><p>“John’s not really going to hurt me,” he assures Lafayette. “He’s just crashing from the adrenaline of thinking someone had <em> taken </em> me. He needs to fight something. Wrestle him a little, fuck his brains out, and get him to bed, and he’ll be fine in the morning,” he suggests. The right combination of adrenaline and endorphins might keep John from dropping, from the aftermath of worrying about Alex all night. Alex wishes Hercules was here. Lafayette, non-dynamic as he is, may not be up for giving John what he needs.</p><p>He also knows Washington’s decision to separate them tonight probably had a little to do with giving John time to calm down, as much as it’s about restricting Alex and keeping him out of sight until he’s been dealt with. Lafayette is right- technically, as a public switch, he’s under his own recognizance. Logically, the Dom of the family is responsible for sorting him out if he needs it. And the chief Dom of the Family is definitely the Commander in Chief himself.</p><p>Alex deserves to get his comeuppance from Washington personally as much as he does professionally. He has no idea what the General has planned for him, but he knows he deserves it several times over. John seems willing to accept that the General will handle this, too.</p><p>He kisses Alex again, before stepping to the side to allow Laf a turn. “I am so glad you are alright, <em> mon cheri,” </em> Laf tells him, holding him close and <em> smelling his hair. </em> Alex wishes he could tease the other man about it, but under the circumstances he doesn’t dare.</p><p>John worms his way back into the hug, wrapping his arms around Alex from the side, and Laf shifts so one of his arms incircles John as well. That’s how Washington finds them a few minutes later, all clinging to each other.</p><p>“Alright, alright. I think that’s enough. Everyone to bed,” Washington says fondly.</p><p>Lafayette, who has never had any sense of appropriateness or boundaries, calls, <em> “Oui, Papa!” </em> as he plants a final kiss on Alex and drags a protesting John off to their tent.</p><p>Leaving Alex alone with Washington.</p><p>He looks down at the floor, unsure if he should snap to attention or start apologizing or ask to borrow Washington’s sword and just impale himself and save everyone the trouble of dealing with him.</p><p>“I was serious about going to bed, Alexander,” Washington tells him quietly. Alex nods. Instructions are good. He can follow instructions. Even if he hasn’t demonstrated that particular skill lately.</p><p>He winces at the thought. It would seem his own inner monologue isn’t any more impressed with him lately than anyone else. He focuses on his orders, walking to where the others placed his cot, perpendicular to the General’s at the corner of the tent. He lies down on it without another word.</p><p>He hears Washington moving around for a moment, then, “Alex.”</p><p>It’s surprisingly gentle. He looks up. “You can’t just fall into bed fully dressed. Sit up,” Washington tells him. Alex plants his feet on the floor beside his cot, sitting rigidly upright.</p><p>Washington takes a knee in front of him to put them on the same level, taking a cloth he must have wet while Alex was lying down and running it across his face. “You’ve got dirt and scratches all over your face, son,” he tells Alex gently.</p><p>Alex stays still while the General cleans him up, clearly checking him for injuries as he goes. His experience with worried, angry parental figures is sparse and stops while he was still young. His experience with <em> paternal </em> figures is even more scarce. He literally doesn’t know what’s expected of him.</p><p>Washington finishes washing his face gently, then says, “Let’s get you out of your coat,” he instructs. Alex slips the garment off, wondering if he’s getting it back or if Washington is so upset with him he’ll dismiss him.</p><p>While he’s lost in thought, the General matter of a factly removes his boots. “Get your vest off, too,” he instructs, and Alex obeys, removing his vest and cravat. He’s left in his shirt and breeches. It’s sufficient for sleeping in his commander’s tent. More clothing than he wears when it’s just the revolutionary set, but comfortable. </p><p>“Good boy,” Washington tells him, patting his knee gently and standing up. “Now, lie down and try to get some sleep. We’ll sort things out in the morning.”</p><p>Alex’s eyes sting at the gentle words. “I’m sorry,” he says again. He feels like that’s all he’s got left to say, anymore.</p><p>Washington turns back to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We’ll sort it out tomorrow, Alex. It’s a screw up, but it’s not the end of the world.” Then his mentor bends down and presses a soft kiss to his hair.</p><p>Alex is still absolutely furious with himself for botching things so totally. But he trusts Washington. If his commander says they’re going to work things out, they will, and he can relax enough to sleep, knowing he’s going to get the punishment he’s earned tomorrow whether he does or not.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh, poor Alex! This backfired on him spectacularly. At least he's home safe!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4: Washington's Thoughts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Washington considers his beloved, ridiculous surrogate son, and figures out what to do with him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, guys! I'm going to be taking a trip in a few days (my brother is getting married!) and I don't want to leave this hanging while I'm gone, since I'm unsure of both my free time and the wifi situation. So I'm going to do some extra posting this week, to try to get this one wrapped up- then if I do have good wifi, SURPRISE! We'll get to meet Jefferson and Madison as Alex and Burr deal with their new reality in the next fic.</p>
<p>Also- if you're enjoying this, could you let me know? If Family focused backstory isn't your thing, let me know what kinds of stories you DO want to see in this verse! I have about a zillion things I want to write, so I want to focus first on what you guys want to read!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Washington sent the boys to bed because they were all clearly exhausted, but found he wasn’t yet ready to rest, himself. The boys are physically tired- they’ve all been sneaking through the countryside all day and into the night. Staying at camp worrying is draining too, but in a different way. With the danger past, he’s still got all of this instinct to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> something rattling around in him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s why he’d resisted the urge to scold Alex tonight. He’d nearly said something he wouldn’t be able to take back, even as careful as he’d been- he knows how much Alex looks up to him, he needs to be careful with the boy. He’s sure Alex will internalize every word of criticism the way he never seems able to do with praise. No matter how many times he tells the boy how important his contributions are, Alex seems determined to get himself killed trying to prove himself. Washington is </span>
  <em>
    <span>determined</span>
  </em>
  <span> to break him of the habit, this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d seriously considered putting Alex over his knee and impressing his foolishness on him- he wouldn’t have trusted himself with an implement, as frightened as he’d been, but he’s confident he could’ve made it a memorable punishment without one. Except that wouldn’t have been about helping Alex learn to do better, it would’ve just been punishment for punishment’s sake, and for Washington’s own sake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s not his job, here. He’s not Alex’s Dom, but he’s the closest thing the boy has to a father. A father’s job isn’t just to punish mistakes, it’s to </span>
  <em>
    <span>teach the boy to do better next time.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And George is far too scattered and panicked to do a good job teaching Alex to make good choices tonight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d focused instead on taking care of all of the boys. Lafayette is more used to the chaos, and his moods are more elastic than the others, anyway- he’ll bounce back the easiest. But there’d been a very good chance of John losing it completely, either at Alex or falling apart on his own later. That’s why he’d written instructions for Lafayette, instead of just telling he and John to go get food for the four of them. The Frenchman loves his friends deeply, but he doesn’t truly understand how someone with Dominant tendencies processes the kind of fear they’d all faced today. He’d thought the younger man would appreciate some advice on supporting John.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John had needed to see that Alex was okay. And the boys had needed a few minutes alone to get reacquainted. He’d been pleased to come back and find them hugging- that could’ve gone the other way, and while he’s confident Gilbert could’ve separated the other two, it would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> have been good for Alex, to have John take a swing at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows the boys pretend that everything between them is casual, but he’s never been fooled. The way John had rushed in, trying to claim and protect Alex, had made that abundantly clear. He knows he probably should’ve been harder on the young man for lying to him, but he’d understood the impulse deeply. John would do anything to protect Alex, and he’d never even think to question if it had been worth it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lafayette is non-dynamic, so he doesn’t understand what John is going through the way Washington does, or Hercules would have if he were here. He wishes Mulligan were around, to deal with his brats. The boys have been out of sorts since Mulligan left, and George thinks that probably contributed to today’s chaos.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He owns some of the blame, too. Every instinct had screamed at him to keep Alex close, today. To put his right hand man with his own team, or at least with Lafayette’s. Instead, he’d given the boy what he knew Alex wanted- his own team. Even though he knew Alex was still too focused on ‘proving himself’ to handle the responsibility.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what he’s got to hammer into Alex tomorrow. The bit about obeying orders, he’s confident the boy’s already gotten. That lesson had been learned, and learned deep, the second Alex had realized </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> John had stormed into the tent, trying to claim him. He’d seen it hit Alex, hard and fast and all at once, that he hadn’t just done something foolish but had disobeyed a direct order. Alex won’t make that mistake again in a hurry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which doesn’t mean the boy will be any less reckless next time. He is, of course, talking about the boy who first came to his attention when he </span>
  <em>
    <span>stole cannons from a British warship, while under fire from the soldiers of that very ship.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Washington settles on his own bunk and turns to watch Alexander sleep, letting himself spend just a few moments dwelling on the course of fate that had first brought this young man into his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d called the bright young officer into his office with a half baked idea about making him an aide de camp, along with a more reasonable plan to put him in command of an artillery unit staffed by the very cannons he’d captured. He hadn’t known which way his decision would go, until he’d met Alexander.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s hesitance had surprised him. Alexander Hamilton was brash on the battlefield, but he’d been nervous, meeting his commander. Alex had assumed he was in trouble- even as the other men toasted his bravery over drinks, it had evidently never occurred to him that the General would also be impressed by his daring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it wasn’t just Hamilton’s own daring that had secured the cannons- he’d convinced men to go with him, to follow him into battle. Including Hercules Mulligan, who Washington had initially assumed to be the boy’s own Dominant. Mulligan’s protective fondness for Alexander had been obvious the first time he’d met the other man, and many probably would’ve expected the imposing Dom to have been the mastermind, or at least commander, behind the daring raid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that had been all Alex. Every soldier involved had said so, and even Mulligan had reported that when he faltered, afraid, Alex had appeared and pushed him on.The young man had seen what everyone else saw. The Continental Army was badly outgunned. Except instead of letting that cause him to retreat, Alex had set out to fix it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s the kind of strength of character and strategic mind that makes or breaks a war. The smart thing to do probably would’ve been to promote him, give him a group of men to lead and a loose set of instructions and turn him on the redcoats. But that hesitance had spoken to Washington- he’d wanted to protect Alex, who couldn’t quite meet Aaron Burr’s eyes, much less his own,  and bowed his head with Old World manners when complimented, more taken aback by kindness than he’d been by the summons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy who lost all of that hesitance and nervousness when he became impassioned, who cared deeply and desperately about their cause and was determined to carve a place for himself in the ranks of those freeing America from tyranny, whatever the cost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexander Hamilton was already a hellion on the battlefield. Washington could’ve turned him loose and watched him go out in a blaze of glory that very well could’ve been a turning point in the war. Instead, he’d decided to nurture that passion- teach Alexander to harness and direct his brilliance, so he can reach his full potential. So he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>live long enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> to reach his full potential.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’ve had competing objectives since the beginning- Alex had freely admitted, that first day, that what he wants is to die like a martyr. George understands the impulse. He had shared it once, as a young soldier during the French and Indian War.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembers how desperately his mother had tried to talk him out of enlisting. But he’d been determined to earn a place in history- to do something worth being remembered for. That determination had carried him through a lot of bad choices and painful moments, and he wants better for Alexander. He doesn’t want the boy to be one of the many passionate young men who die tortured heroes for their cause. He wants Alex to become one of the architects of the future they’re trying so hard to build.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s passion has been evident since day one. Alexander, determined to die like a martyr, and Washington, determined to keep him alive so they can build something new and lasting on the other side of this. He sees a lot of himself in the brave, sometimes careless young man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he’d had a son of his own, Washington imagines he’d have been a lot like Hamilton. He imagines his mother is laughing at him from heaven now- she’d said often enough that he’d be cursed one day with a boy with his own stubbornness and drive. He’d imagined, when he and Martha realized they weren’t going to be able to have any children of their own, that her prediction would never come true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then they’d all but adopted Alexander and his band of ruffians, his so called ‘Revolutionary Set’. The New York boys are all wild and drunk on the potential of the future, and George has a special place in his heart for each of them. It’s Alex, though, who sits at his right hand not only in official matters of policy, but at dinner when Martha insists the boys come for a ‘family meal’ when they’re home at Valley Forge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexander had captured Martha’s heart as clearly as he’d captured George’s, and one of the reasons George finds himself unable to rest is the idea of what his wife would say if she knew what had happened today. He needs to tell her- and before they pick up camp and return to Valley Forge. He’d rather she not find out with Alexander in front of her- though her displeasure with the young man may do as much to cure him of his foolish risk taking as George’s own censure will.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, for his censure to have any effect, George needs to come up with a plan for what to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> with his young charge. He nearly immediately discards the idea of physical punishment- Alex will endure it, and come out on the other side feeling better about his guilt over his disobedience. But the important things- how much he means to the rest of them, the need to communicate instead of flying solo, and that it’s about damn time he begin acting like the lieutenant colonel he is instead of a desperate infantryman trying to make a name for himself- those Alex isn’t going to learn from a spanking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex still, somehow, seems to believe himself both alone and on the outside of things. Even as Washington discusses strategy with him and trusts his insights on critical decisions, Alex somehow feels inferior because he doesn’t have a field command.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A plan begins to take shape. It’s not complete, and he’s not sure it will work. But the objective is getting Alexander to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop and think.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Forcing him to do just that is a good starting point, if nothing else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Determined, Washington gets ready for bed himself, lying down and forcing his mind to quiet. He’s the Commander in Chief- he absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> be slow and distracted tomorrow just because he’s tired. Alexander’s little solo mission has done enough to throw the enemy off their tracks that he’s confident packing up the camp tomorrow to take everyone back to Valley Forge, but even for a day of packing he wants to be ready for any surprises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glances fondly over at Alexander one more time before he drifts off to sleep. The boy looks so </span>
  <em>
    <span>innocent</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he’s asleep, all of that chaotic brilliance briefly stilled. Once, when Martha was looking after him during a minor illness, she’d commented that, at rest, he looks less like the force of nature he is and more like a child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George is determined to see Alexander grow up- he can already imagine what that brilliant mind will be capable of, with age and wisdom behind him. Alexander is already thinking of the future, after all- even as he throws himself carelessly forward as if he doesn’t care if he actually sees it. The young aide is constantly thinking about not only the battles in front of them but the infrastructure needed to support the Army- ways of raising funds from the individual colonies and organize colonial leadership.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s sure Alexander Hamilton isn’t just going to change a critical battle’s outcome one day. He’s going to change the world. And George Washington can’t wait to see him do it.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5: Consequences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The next morning,they're ready to deal with the fallout of Alexander's choices.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ya'll, I cannot count. I bumped the chapter count up to reflect this.</p><p>I love Dad!Washington so much, you guys. I'm going "post cannon" next but I'm already planning future Washingdad and Hamilson fics.</p><p>Please let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alex wakes up confused. He’s in his cot, but he’s not in the tent he shares with the rest of the revolutionary set. Slowly, though, as he sits up, he realizes where he is and why as the day before comes flooding back to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>disobeyed a direct order and abandoned his post.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He supposes keeping him in Washington’s quarters is the best they can do, what with having already disassembled all of the nonessential tents in preparation for the move, including the brig. Retrospectively, he has to wonder where they’d even stashed the prisoners he’d brought in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wonders if Washington is going to go ahead and whip him before they pack up and head back, in front of just the men who are part of the camp, or if he’s going to wait until they’re back at Valley Forge where the whole army can witness his punishment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes sting with humiliated tears. It’s not only himself he’s disgraced- John and Laf and Herc will all be branded by association. John will get into fights left and right when other soldiers make comments. Laf, already an outsider to most of the camp, will be further separated. And Hercules will come home not to a hero’s welcome for their daring spy, but to the news that his friend and occasional bedmate has sullied all of their names.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s not even considering how difficult he’s made things for Washington. Washington, who has trusted him since the beginning, who has kept him by his side and made sure everyone knew Alex was his right hand. Someone the General has trusted so closely screwing up so badly will cause a huge stir in the men- Alex hates to think how much work Washington will have to do to rebuild morale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t decide what to do, now that he’s awake. The mature, responsible thing to do would be to sit up, and find out what Washington plans to do to him today. But the part of him that feels small, still, wants to pull his blanket up and hide, for just a little longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indecision wins out and he does neither, lying motionless on his cot. He hears movement in the tent, then voices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” That’s Washington. Alex wonders who he’s speaking to.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“De rien,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lafayette says, obviously speaking deliberately softly. “Has he slept?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was so exhausted he didn’t have much of a choice,” Washington tells the other man. Alex should </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> let them know he’s awake, not eavesdrop as they discuss him. “How is John?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lafayette obviously struggles for words. “You know, we were all of us very tired,” he says evasively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do know that. And you know that’s not what I’m asking about, Gil. Is he doing alright, with all of this?” the General asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your advice and Alexander’s were nearly the same. I exhausted him when we returned to our tent, and he was able to admit how frightened he’d been, not only how angry. And how he blamed himself, for not protecting Alex. And worried Hercules and I would do the same,” Lafayette admits. Alex feels terrible. John doesn’t bear any responsibility for his mistakes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, Gil. You took good care of him,” Washington tells the Frenchman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He threatened, last night, to beat Alexander bloody. I do not think he would do so…” Laf admits, obviously still bothered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I was so upset with him last night I nearly called him useless, because he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>disobedient.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not because I in any way think he is. Just as an overreaction to the situation. As a Dom, or a switch with Dominant leanings, in John’s case, we don’t just process the fear and the worry, or even the anger. We feel a responsibility for it. For him. And if we feel responsible, then there must be something we can do, right? So we try to do anything we can think of, whether or not it helps. John won’t hurt Alex,” Washington assures Laf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex already knew this part, of course, but it’s fascinating to hear a Dom’s perspective on their overprotective impulses. He stays very still- he’s definitely listened in too much to admit to being awake now. He’s going to have to tough it out until Laf leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>hurt him?” Lafayette asks, almost accusing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Washington tells him. “And I don’t just mean no as in, ‘It’s for his own good, really.’ I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>no.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Maybe technically I should be whipping him officially, but that would do more harm than good. Alex needs to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop</span>
  </em>
  <span> trying so hard to prove himself. Humiliating him in front of the camp would only push him in the opposite direction. And it’s… as a father, my job isn’t just to </span>
  <em>
    <span>punish</span>
  </em>
  <span> misbehavior. It’s to make sure that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>learns from it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He’ll accept anything I want to do to him. Alexander is more than capable of enduring physical pain. But it won’t make him </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop and think.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’ve got to get him to stop and think, while he’s still breathing to do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Washington sounds almost afraid. As if he’s worried about what will happen if Alex </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> learn to stop and think. Alex feels terrible, that his bad choices have frightened the people he loves so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lafayette doesn’t sound any better when he says, “Whatever it takes to avoid losing him like that again, I am all in favor of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to get moving by this afternoon,” Washington tells him next. “Can you two break down the aide’s tent and the planning tent by yourselves?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely. We will worry with that, and trust you to worry over our Alex,” Laf assures him immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Gil. And spread word, please- I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be disturbed today, unless the British are literally at our door. Post a man outside the tent to dissuade questions. I trust you to organize the rest of the teardown,” Washington decides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, whatever Washington has planned for him, he doesn’t want to be disturbed. Alex isn’t quite sure what to make of his mentor’s insistence that he’s not going to discipline Alex physically- he has no idea what Washington could plan to do to him instead. The only thing that jumps out at him is dismissal, or at the least suspension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex doesn’t know where he’ll go if he’s sent away from the Army. His family and his home is </span>
  <em>
    <span>here.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He doesn’t have anyone to return to. The first person it occurs to him to go to, if he’s dismissed from Washington’s side, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Martha,</span>
  </em>
  <span> which makes no sense and obviously wouldn’t work. He can’t return to New York and Hercules without endangering the other man’s mission and potentially his life. The British have a habit of hanging spies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex hasn’t felt so small and alone since his cousin died. He turns to lie on his side, facing the wall of the tent, as tears overwhelm him. Luckily, he’d learned long ago to cry silently. He’s put the skill to use more in the past day than he’d ever expected to again. But it’s the same pain, bubbling up over and over with no way of addressing it. He can’t properly cry it out until he earns forgiveness for his many recent failures. And if forgiveness isn’t coming, he needs to be ready to deal with that, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears Washington moving around the tent as his shoulders shake with silent sobs. He becomes slowly aware that Washington is approaching the corner of the tent with the cots in it, and he tries to will himself still, so Washington will think he’s still asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, son,” Washington says quietly, obviously not falling for the ruse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s surprised to feel the General’s weight settle on his cot, as Washington sits by his hip. Washington’s hand is warm and gentle as it rubs his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all going to be okay, Alex. This isn’t the end of the world, just a hard learning experience for all of us,” Washington tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except, if the General sends him away, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> be the end of Alex’s world. Alex sits up, turning in toward Washington and clinging to him. “Please don’t dismiss me. I’ll do anything. Just let me stay,” he begs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alex, son, if there’s one thing we learned yesterday, it’s that the entire Family falls apart without you. You aren’t going anywhere. In fact, you’re going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> exactly how ‘not going anywhere’ you are,” Washington assures him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounds vaguely ominous, but for the moment Alex is too grateful to worry about it. He clings to Washington, and the General holds him close. Alex doesn’t know what to do except cling. Washington pets his hair, offering a steady stream of reassurance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay, son. You made it back safe and I’ve got you. We’ll keep you safe from anything, even yourself. It’s all going to be alright,” Washington promises him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Alex says quietly, once he’s stopped crying. “This whole mess is my own fault and here I am crying like a child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve had a very intense last day or so, son. It’s okay to let it out. There’s no one here but me,” Washington assures him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re furious with me. Why are you being so </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Alex asks, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the same reason I’m upset. I love you, son. That means I hold you when you need it and discipline you when you need it, even if you aren’t sure what to do with either,” Washington explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So that’s what having a father is like. Alex, honestly, has gotten more paternal guidance and affection from Washington in the few months he’s been at the other man’s side than he ever had from his own father. It almost seems ludicrous to compare the two. He’s glad Washington knows how out of his depth he is, here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready to get up and have some breakfast?” Washington asks. Alex nods, and the General pulls him close for a moment before releasing him and standing to return to his desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex takes a few minutes to wash his face and get dressed before joining the General. Lafayette had brought them bread and hot coffee for breakfast, and Alexander sits down across from Washington at the desk to eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except that he finds himself utterly unable to do so, one question pressing on him to the point where he has to ask. “What are you going to do to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Washington regards him sternly. “My right hand man running off in search of glory is obviously a huge tactical problem, which I need to solve. You’re who usually helps me solve tactical problems. I’m sure if you spend some time at attention, thinking it over, you’ll have an answer for me later about what exactly went wrong and how we keep it from happening again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s essentially being put in time out like a naughty toddler. Alex wants to protest, but shame at his own actions keeps him quiet. He’s behaved abominably. If Washington’s chosen punishment is humiliating, maybe he should make better decisions next time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finish their breakfast wordlessly. Alex isn’t sure he trusts himself to speak, and Washington seems lost in thought. When they’re finished, the General says, “On your feet, Alexander. At attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex obeys. “Yes, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to hear a word from you unless I ask you a question. And when I do, I expect you to have an answer for me- </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> is it so serious that you went off on your own, when it turned out okay?” Washington tells him sternly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex contemplates the question for a few minutes. The answer seems obvious to him- by blatantly disobeying his commander, he’s undermined Washington in front of all of the men. Discipline is tenuous enough already, with the constant threat of scarcity- of food, supplies, and pay- keeping the men on edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s an easy question, with an easy answer. And yet, Washington doesn’t seem to intend to give him the opportunity to </span>
  <em>
    <span>deliver</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. Alex fidgets, trying to draw the General’s attention to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be still, Alex,” Washington says, without even looking up from what he’s working on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, that was a non-starter. Alex is beginning to feel offended. Obviously such an easy question wouldn’t take him this long to answer- Washington is toying with him, treating him like an idiot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s about decided to speak up when the tent flaps move. Not wanting whoever is coming in to see him standing around in a humiliatingly childish punishment, Alex relaxes his posture. “At attention, Alexander.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How did Washington </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> that? The other man isn’t even looking at him. He does look up to greet the person who’s entered the tent- Lafayette, thank God. His friend barely spares him a glance, reporting on the plan for taking down the rest of the camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Washington approves, and Laf takes their dishes from breakfast with him as he leaves. All without even speaking to Alex. It’s humiliating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they’re alone, Alex can’t keep quiet anymore. “It’s humiliating, standing here like this where anyone can see!” he whines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was Lafayette. There’s a guard at my door, and no one but Gilbert is allowed to disturb me today. And if you’ve got anything to be embarrassed about in front of him, it’s the worry you caused us all, not the way I’ve chosen to punish you for it. Now, stay. Put.” Washington’s voice is sharp, and Alex’s posture straightens immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He realizes immediately that he should’ve told Washington he’s got an answer. Maybe the other man is so distracted by what he’s working on that he’s forgotten to ask. Not quite daring to break position or speak without permission again so soon, he clears his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe I told you to be quiet,” Washington tells him, again not even bothering to look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But sir!” The argument is automatic. Alex winces as he realizes he’s just disobeyed Washington again. He should’ve kept his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is so important that it’s worth disobeying my orders, Alex?” Washington asks him sternly, looking up at him from the papers he’s been reading at </span>
  <em>
    <span>last.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The stern gaze is not really better than being ignored. “I have an answer,” Alex says, his voice small.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? I’m surprised to hear that, given that you’ve seemed more focused on resisting your punishment than considering the question,” Washington scolds. Alex winces again, lowering his eyes. “Let’s hear it, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It undermines order in the camp if I openly defy you. Me disobeying a direct order makes every other soldier in the unit think they can, as well,” Alex explains quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Washington looks at him for a long moment. “That’s the best you could think of? Questioning my ability to keep my men in line?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex’s mouth opens and closes. “I didn’t mean-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What you didn’t do was </span>
  <em>
    <span>think,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Alex. My aides are held to a different standard than ordinary soldiers. A higher one, absolutely. But also a more flexible one, as far as rigid obedience. With proper communication, there would’ve been nothing wrong with your operation.” Washington looks at him for a long moment, then adds, firmly, “Though I’ve clearly let my expectations for obedience slack too much with you- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do not</span>
  </em>
  <span> expect to see or hear </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> break in position from you, until </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell you it’s time for a discussion. And when I do, I expect you to have a much better answer for me about what went wrong yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex takes a shuddery breath, bringing himself to attention as perfectly as possible. He focuses all of his energy on staying quiet and still, scolding himself back into obedience when he threatens to slip before Washington can. He’s so completely consumed by his task that he’s surprised when Laf walks back in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are on track to be disassembled by early afternoon. We should be able to make good progress on the journey before nightfall,” he reports. “I’ve put Lee in charge of disassembling the common areas, and John is making sure everything is packed up properly in the planning tent, so that we can set up again easily when we return to Valley Forge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent,” Washington tells him. They both speak as if Alex isn’t even in the room. He forces himself not to interject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need help packing things away in here?” Lafayette offers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alex and I will see to it later. He’s been thinking over a question for me. Speaking of- do you have an answer, Alexander?” Washington asks. Both mens’ gazes fall on him, and Alex realizes with sudden panic that he’d been so focused on staying still and quiet he’d forgotten the other half of Washington’s orders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” he starts to lie, to spin some reason that’s at least plausible, if probably not correct, then his shoulders drop. “I’ve been so focused on staying in position I haven’t even been thinking about it,” he confesses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for being honest with me, Alex. And you are doing better at staying in position. Now, I’m sure you can split your focus and do some thinking while you’re at attention,” Washington instructs, not unkindly. Even though he’s let his mentor down again, Alex is steadied by the knowledge that Washington sees the effort he’s putting into being good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lee wants to see you as well, General. He’s very insistent that he has questions only you can answer, and it ‘wouldn’t be proper’ for him to direct them to me,” Lafayette says, pulling the discussion’s focus back away from Alex. He’s grateful- he uses the moment to straighten his posture and contemplate the question at hand. What, exactly, is so wrong about what he did last night?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Washington sighs. “Alexander,” he says firmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir?” Alex looks over at his commander nervously. Surely he hasn’t done something else wrong- he’s sure he’s being quiet and still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lee apparently absolutely has to speak to me. I won’t let him witness you obviously being punished, but I’m not releasing you without an answer, either. Pull up a chair here, please,” the General instructs, pointing to the corner of his desk beside his right arm.  Alex often winds up there instead of across the desk when they’re planning something- it won’t look odd to an outsider to see him there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex obeys, standing behind the chair uncertainly. “Now, sit. You don’t have to be at attention, but I do expect you to keep thinking- and remain quiet unless you are spoken to directly. Even if Lee annoys you. Do you understand me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex considers his orders. Thinks about the sarcastic quips he usually offers, when he finds himself faced with Charles Lee. This isn’t going to be easy. But that isn’t what Washington asked. “Yes, sir,” he says dutifully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy. Sit. And Gilbert, you can send Lee in,” Washington decides.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6: Realizations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lee gets to talk to Washington. Alex finally figures out what he did wrong. Then, HE gets to talk to Washington.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love Washingdad SO MUCH, you guys. He's so good with Alex. And John. And Laf. And sweet Alex is trying SO HARD.</p><p>Also, tomorrow is the big day, for my bro! We made it through the trip, and as you can see, I HAVE WIFI! So expect the last chapter of this ASAP, then maybe a Lafayette character study oneshot? Or the sequel to Aaron Burr, Sir. I'm not sure which I'm posting next. Thanks for all of your support and encouragement- you guys ROCK!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alex spends a few more minutes quietly thinking while they wait on Lee’s arrival. There’s got  to be a reason Washington wants him to figure this out for himself- the General doesn’t just toss him unsolvable challenges or watch him struggle for the sake of it. Perhaps it’s something Washington has told him before, that Alex hasn’t absorbed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lee sneers at him as he walks in. Alexander is grateful he’s been allowed to sit casually, even if he is still being punished- Lee seeing him at attention, in timeout like a naughty schoolboy, would’ve been more than he could bear quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“General,” Lee says, saluting smartly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Lee?” the General asks, looking up. “Is there a problem with the teardown?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a clarification, sir. Do you want the whipping post taken down?I wasn’t sure if you were going to be needing it before we left, or if you were waiting until we return to Valley Forge and the whole force is there to bear witness.” Lee’s tone is </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> innocent, and the way he cuts his eyes to Alex is filled with cruel glee. Lee hates Alex for the trust he’s been given- Lee is a by the books kind of officer and submissive, and he’s disgusted by Alex’s own wilder way of being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have any whippings scheduled. It should come down as instructed,” Washington tells Lee dismissively. “Was there anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lee splutters. “But sir, surely-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How I deal with my men is my concern, not yours, Lieutenant Colonel,” Washington tells him firmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The men know he abandoned his post,” Lee reminds the General, spitting the words out with a venomous glare in Alex’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they will also know that Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton’s actions have made it possible for us to return to Valley Forge without fear of being followed. He not only obtained information about the British’s location and their theories about our own, he managed to reinforce their mistaken assumptions in a way that keeps us all out of the line of fire until we’re more ready to face it. There is a reason Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton is my right hand man, Lee. It is because I trust his mind and his judgement for this army second only to my own. He made a judgement call in the field, and while he did not follow the proper chain of command, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> ensure we’ll all live to fight another day. And whether </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>happen to approve of his methods or not, we cannot argue with his results,” Washington tells the obviously shocked submissive, whose mouth gapes open in dismay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The men will be furious to see him escape censure none of the rest of us would’ve avoided,” Lee tries in one last attempt at getting what he’d wanted- Alex’s blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I will have to look into who is getting them stirred up into a fury. In fact, Lee, since you’re so concerned with morale, I’m going to make it </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> job to make sure everyone understands what Hamilton’s team accomplished, and that he remains my most trusted aide. I don’t expect to hear about any difficulties with </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> assignment.” Washington’s tone is dangerous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lee gulps. “Yes, General,” he says. He gets tangled somewhere between bowing and saluting, and winds up leaning into his salute as he bows forward and smacking himself in the forehead. Alex barely bites down on a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dismissed,” Washington tells the other soldier sternly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lee backs out of Washington’s tent awkwardly, and once he’s gone Alex gapes at his mentor in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask, son,” Washington orders, looking up and meeting his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You defended me.” Well, there was supposed to be a question there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your actions were risky but well executed. If you’d fallen in and told me what you wanted to do, or even sent a runner with word of your plan, I wouldn’t be nearly so put out with you. Alex, you aren’t my right hand because I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fond</span>
  </em>
  <span> of you. You’re a brilliant strategist, in your own right. Which makes these lapses in judgement all the more infuriating,” Washington tells him sternly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you’d let me,” Alex admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Washington presses. “What part of your plan wasn’t worth following?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex pauses, really considering that. Capturing the scouting party had been a good plan. Leading the enemy off their trail would’ve been absolutely worth it on its own, and the intel gained from a captured scouting party was bound to make their own withdrawal safer and more likely to succeed without setting off a skirmish. His men had easily outnumbered the British scouts, and the terrain had been perfect for following them secretly until the moment was right. And yet-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you’d listen to me,” he admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? Alexander? Why? At what point have I </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> listened and considered any proposal you’ve brought before me?” Washington asks him, his voice rising with frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t give me a command,” Alexander reminds him, aware of how sulky he sounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Washington’s eyes narrow. “On your feet, soldier,” he orders sternly. Alex obeys. He’s clearly upset his mentor once again. “This is something we’ve been over and over. The answer is </span>
  <em>
    <span>no,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Alexander. That is not where you are the most useful to this Army. Unless you want to look me in the eye and tell me your personal glory is more important than our victory in this war?” he challenges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex had snapped to attention when he stood, but his eyes fall now. He feels so </span>
  <em>
    <span>selfish, so horribly low and small.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Because a part of him is crying out, ‘Yes!’ even though that’s not how he feels, not really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You tell me that’s how you really feel, and I’ll put you in charge of an artillery unit and send you out right now. You’ll leave the Family here to plan army wide strategy without you, and we’ll hope you survive so we can shake your hand when this is all over. You’ll trade helping us win the whole thing for command of the battalion I was considering giving you the day we met. When I saw something in you that’s much bigger than defending one post. I decided that day that you were the soldier I wanted by my side. And you accepted, Alex. I didn’t force you. You could’ve stayed in the field. Earned promotions as the men above you died. If you don’t want to do this- to fight by my side instead of on the front lines- anymore, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn well look me in the eye and tell me, right now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex is looking at the floor with watery eyes, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. But that doesn’t satisfy the General, who takes him by the chin and forces Alex to meet his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, sir,” he whispers miserably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to be sorry, Alex. I want you to understand,” Washington tells him. “What you do is far more important than what anyone else of your rank is doing. The real work of winning a war isn’t all daring moments you can retell in a pub later. Far more of it is finding the right words to get the supplies we need, or plotting the path that gets the Army to base safely, so we live to fight another day. It’s not glamorous, son. But it’s how real wars are won.” Washington looks at him seriously. “Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s only one possible right answer to that question. “Yes, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Washington tells him. “Because I need you, Alexander. We’re going to win this thing together.” There’s absolutely no doubt in the General’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex nods, resolute. The General has decided he’s needed here. And even if he doesn’t understand why that is, he knows he should trust Washington enough to accept the decision. Though that doesn’t make sitting on the sidelines sting any less.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, at attention, soldier,” Washington tells him sternly. “You just told me that you didn’t send word, not because you didn’t think of it or you didn’t have time, but because you didn’t want me telling you ‘no’. Is that accurate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex swallows. Put like that, it sounds so childish. “Yes, sir,” he admits, his voice a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds less like the decision of a trained officer than of a child who wants a later bedtime, Alexander. I expect better from you,” Washington tells him sternly. Alex fights back tears as his commander sits back down and resumes his work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex remains at dutiful attention, contemplating his mistake. Slowly, a realization hits him. And there’s something he’s got to make sure his mentor knows. “It’s not you that I don’t trust, sir. It’s that I still feel like that orphan kid nobody ever listened to, and I forget sometimes that you always do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very good, Alex,” Washington says. “And I will always listen to you- even if afterwards, the answer is sometimes no. Now that you’ve identified the problem, how are you going to solve it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex considers this for a few minutes. “Instead of assuming you’ll veto all of my plans, I need to start evaluating them. Maybe consider what you’d say if another soldier brought them in. The foolish ones, I’ll poke holes in myself. And the likely ones, I’ll know will stand up to questioning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a solid plan, son,” Washington tells him. Alex warms a little at that, relieved to have gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> right today. “Now, we move on after lunchtime, and there’s one more thing we need to accomplish before we help the men tear down this tent. Last night, when we couldn’t find you, I was writing letters to two people who needed to know. Martha and Mulligan. Now, I think they both deserve to know how close you came to getting yourself killed- especially since they’ll both hear rumors that are likely to be far worse. They deserve to hear it from us. I’m working on a message to Mulligan, I’ll include it in the rest of the correspondence. We’ve got a code set up, in case any letters are intercepted. Why don’t you start on one for Martha?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alexander stares at the paper and quill Washington has set on the desk in horror. “She’ll kill me,” he says dumbly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is absolutely going to find out, son. I suggest you confess your sins, and I’ll send the letter along with the runners going to tell everyone we’re returning to Valley Forge. Maybe she’ll have calmed down by the time we arrive,” Washington suggests, patting his arm supportively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex sits, staring at the paper as he tries to compose his thoughts. He crosses out several forms of address- ‘Dear Mrs. Washington’ sounds too formal, he doesn’t feel he deserves to address her as ‘Martha’ at the moment, though that’s what she usually insists on. Eventually, he settles on a title he rarely uses, though she welcomes it, and begins.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Mama M,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You might be wondering why I’m writing you when we’re on our way back. Our last few days in the field have not been as smooth as one might have hoped, and I am writing you, under the General’s orders, because he’s right- you deserve to hear it from me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was some fear as the British under Howe’s command got close that our camp might be found. To avoid discovery, we spread out in small bands to watch for British scouting parties, and stop their advances. I was put in charge of the party furthest afield from the camp, and mine was the only party to spot redcoat scouts.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I made the decision to follow and capture them, even far from camp. The risk was a beneficial one, even if it wasn’t strictly necessary. I know you don’t like the risks we take, but you do understand why they are important.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What I did that you’re going to be furious about is that I did it without telling anyone. We tracked the British soldiers further and further afield, until we returned late into the night once the camp was convinced we were lost.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’d wanted to prove myself a hero, Mama, and all I did in the end was terrify and upset the people who care for me. I’m only glad we are not currently basing out of Valley Forge, where you might have been close at hand to hear I was missing in the moment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I guiltily confess I’ve caused no small amount of worry and stress, with my disobedience and willful behavior. I know you’ll be rightly furious with me, as indeed your husband is, and I can only plead for the opportunity to earn forgiveness for my mistakes, from you both. I know I’ve let you down. I’m so sorry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Humbly yours,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alexander</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex folds the letter and then drops his head into his hands, feeling tears threaten. She’s going to be so disappointed in him- and Alex finds himself on the verge of tears as he realizes why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Professionally, he made the right call, except for notification. Washington has disciplined him for that, keeping him at attention and waiting all day. It’s been an unusual punishment but an effective one- he won’t go rogue without informing his commander again. He even understands a little more the flawed thought process that led him to make the mistake in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But personally, he’d utterly disregarded everyone who cares about him in pursuit of glory. Not only had he been hugely unfair to Washington, acting as if the General wouldn’t listen, and done some of what he did out of jealousy over Hercules’ assignment, but he’d left them all to worry without a second thought. He’s terrible- he doesn’t deserve their care, if this is what he does with it- throws it away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, son,” Washington says, apparently taking in the pitiful state of him. “Come here,” the General says, standing and stepping towards him with his arms outstretched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex absolutely doesn’t deserve the hug, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh,</span>
  </em>
  <span> how he needs it. He wraps his arms around the General’s waist, burying his face in his commander’s vest and losing his battle with tears. Washington’s hands are warm and gentle across his shoulders and the back of his head, and he sinks miserably into the older man’s arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got you, son. I know telling Martha was hard, but that’s the end of it, as far as I’m concerned. You’re forgiven.” Alex’s tears turn to noisy sobs- he hadn’t known how much he needed those words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, I’ll never do it again, sir, I promise. I’m sorry!” Alex tells him miserably, needing to get the words out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh, son, I know you won’t. It’s okay, now,” Washington tells him. Alex hates that he’s embarrassing himself further, by being such a baby when Washington didn’t really even punish him. The worst he got was having to stand around bored for a few hours and think about what he’d done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure what to make of that. Washington seems to know how difficult today was on him, even though he feels ridiculous for being done in. He’d have been far more stoic if he’d only been whipped, but he has to admit his commander has succeeded in really making him consider and regret his mistakes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Washington just holds him close for a few long moments, until Alex calms down. Then, he says, “Alex, do you know why I punished you the way I did, today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex shakes his head. “Not really,” he admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your mind is your greatest advantage, but it’s also your greatest stumbling block, when you let yourself get lost in your head and your feelings, instead of considering the world around you. There were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so many</span>
  </em>
  <span> chances to make better choices, yesterday. You could’ve sent your relay man, to report what you’d seen. You could’ve left a couple of your men to guard your zone while you set out. You could’ve sent just one man to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> personally, and let me know what you were doing, even if you hadn’t waited for approval. Or even later- when you realized how long securing the prisoners was taking, you had enough men to send one back and let us know you were returning. You absolutely should’ve realized you were going to miss check in, Alex. But you put your whole mind toward </span>
  <em>
    <span>proving yourself,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and you didn’t stop and think- the people who matter already know what you’re capable of, son, and we’ll never be impressed by poorly considered risks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The explanation is given kindly, not as a scolding. Alex tries to accept the words for the truth they are, instead of defending himself. That’s exactly what Washington is warning him about, after all- his shortsighted focus on how people see him, at any given moment, instead of focusing on the greater goals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When my goal is proving myself, instead of serving the Army, I’m as likely to do the opposite as I am to impress anyone,” Alex realizes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. You’ve impressed me over and over again, when you’re focused on </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing your job,</span>
  </em>
  <span> son. Just do the best you can, and I promise your best will be enough to make your name, son,” Washington tells him. “Now, are you ready to help me take this tent apart, so we’re ready to move out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir,” Alex agrees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They work in tandem to pack up Washington’s office area, carefully organizing and securing important papers. When everything sensitive has been packed up, Washington says, “Let’s go get some help, and find a runner to tell Valley Forge we’re coming and bring Martha your letter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They go together, and Alex is grateful. He hides behind the General, just a little, as they walk through the campsite. He’s used to the eyes on them, but they seem more curious than usual today, and he looks down rather than risk seeing the other soldiers mock him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hamilton!” A captain he vaguely recognizes calls. Alexander looks up. “Pretty cool, the way you captured those Brits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Alex says awkwardly. The other man nods at him and goes back to taking down the tent he’d been working on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The revolutionary set’s tent is already disassembled and loaded for transport. “You boys have time to join us taking my tent down?” Washington asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” John tells him casually, eyes sweeping over Alex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will get a few enlisted men to assist us,” Lafayette decides, heading off to do just that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others return to Washington’s tent, and as soon as they’re alone John gives up the pretense of just being there to help with the move. He doesn’t spare Washington a glance, looking Alex up and down. “I don’t care what anyone else says or does, if you ever scare me like that again I am going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>take the skin off of you,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> John tells him sternly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair,” Alex agrees. He knows that if John ever finds himself in a position to make good on that promise, he’ll consider this moment his own consent and accept it. He feels terrible for frightening the other man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You beautiful, brilliant idiot,” John says, pulling him close. Alex hugs back eagerly, yielding easily when John kisses him, careless about Washington seeing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you two are done, I’d rather not leave </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> tent behind when we move out,” Washington tells them teasingly a moment later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pull apart, each adjusting their clothes awkwardly. “Sorry, sir,” John says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing to apologize for, John. I understand,” Washington tells him. “Now, let’s get this place packed up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Working together, they make quick work of the contents of the tent, and by the time Lafayette is back with enlisted men, they’re ready to actually disassemble the tent itself. They do that, too, and Washington sends John and Alex to find a runner to send along to Valley Forge while he and Lafayette supervise the last of the load out.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7: Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The soldiers return home, where Mama M is waiting.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>That's it for this fic!!!</p><p>Thank you so much for your support and sweet comments about this story!</p><p>Which should I do next, Lafayette character study or the Alex/Aaron sequel? I'm leaning toward the sequel for now.</p><p>As always, I'd love to hear what you think!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The journey back to Valley Forge is uneventful, The Family all ride close together, so Alex thankfully doesn’t have to interact with the other soldiers much. He focuses on his horse, staying in the middle of the Family group, mostly between Washington and John, with Lafayette riding just behind them.</p><p>When they get back to Valley Forge, they take care of the horses before heading to the main house. Alex feels his steps drag, dreading Martha’s likely response to his letter, but Washington steers him forward with a gentle hand on his shoulder.</p><p>They all head immediately for the kitchen- it’s gotten cold, though winter hasn’t properly set in yet, and they could all do with some hot tea.</p><p>“We’ll warm up first, before we unpack. Give the enlisted men time to get their things sorted before we begin reassembling the planning room and my office,” Washington decides.</p><p>Alex is nodding in agreement when they walk into the kitchen and he freezes. Because there’s already tea being brewed, and soup on the fire. And Martha Washington herself is overseeing the preparations, rather than a servant.</p><p>“You’re home!” she says happily, hugging George and kissing him before pressing both Lafayette and Laurens into quick hugs. At last, her gaze settles on Alex. “Despite your foolishness, you’re all home safe,” she says softly, obviously relieved.</p><p>She pulls Alex into a tight hug as well, though he can’t bring himself to meet her eyes. “You silly, reckless boy,” she scolds. She pulls him back so that she can see his face. “I ought to take my wooden spoon to you for scaring everyone so,” she threatens, looking at least half serious.</p><p>Alex swallows heavily. He’s made amends for his professional lapse in judgement, but he’s failed the Family personally as well, and so far, everyone has been content to threaten what will happen if he does it again, rather than address what he’s already done. At least if Martha spanks him, it’s over with. “Yes, ma’am,” he says thickly. He knows she’s not actually his mother, but she’s the closest he has, and he respects her enough to accept her correction.</p><p>Alex can’t decide if he’s more relieved or nervous when she reaches behind her and takes out the threatened wooden spoon. “Martha,” Washington says, apparently attempting to rescue him.</p><p>“No, George. I’m sure you’ve smartly dealt with the soldier who disobeyed orders and was derelict in his duty. That’s not what this is about. I’m after the naughty little boy, who needs to remember how much we all care about him and take better care to keep himself safe and not worry us all like that again,” Martha says firmly.</p><p>She matter of factly bends him over the kitchen table and Alex goes without protest, aware that he deserves this. He can’t even complain about being punished in front of the others, because she’s acting for all of them, who he’d scared with his recklessness. He screws his eyes shut and waits.</p><p>Martha taps him lightly with the spoon. It’s not a delicate thing for eating- it’s the large spoon used to stir a big pot of soup, made of thick wood, and the little tap covers nearly all of his lower right cheek. “Why am I about to paddle your naughty bottom, sweetheart?” she asks him.</p><p>“I scared everyone! Something bad could’ve happened and no one would’ve known in time,” he confesses guiltily.</p><p>“Very good, Alexander.” She gives him a sharp spank with the spoon, and he gasps. Another takes him up on his toes. It stings. She’s also, he realizes with horror as she gives him another pair of swats, only spanking him right where he sits, where it’ll be the sorest.</p><p>“I don’t want to have to repeat this lesson, dear boy, but I will, every time you forget just how dear you are to us. And I won’t care if your father’s already punished you or not,” she threatens. Alex would be tempted to remind her that Washington isn’t actually his father, but another wicked swat steals his breath before he can.</p><p>She only gives him a dozen, total. But they’re all hard, and they’re all low across the spot where cheek meets thigh. It’s more than enough to have him thoroughly regretting his behavior, willing to promise just about anything to make her stop.</p><p>“Are you going to scare us like that again?” Martha asks, giving his sore flesh a little pat with the wicked spoon.</p><p>“No! No, ma’am! I promise! I won’t ever,” he assures her desperately. He can’t help wriggling his bottom just a little, trying to get away from that awful spoon.</p><p>“Good, dear. I’m glad to hear it. And to help you remember-” Martha steps back, clearly putting her shoulder into one last spank, across both of his cheeks.</p><p>Alex howls like he’s been scalded, but forces himself to stay in position. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he cries.</p><p>“And you’re forgiven, sweetheart. Come here.” Martha has thrown decorum out the window (probably around the time she decided to spank Alexander in the middle of the kitchen) and she sits on the table, pulling him far enough upright to fall into her for a much needed hug. “Good boy, let’s have a hug now, you’re all forgiven,” Martha assures him, holding him close and kissing his forehead.</p><p>“Are you, like, monopolizing Alex, or can anyone hug him?” John asks from somewhere behind him. Alex presses further against Martha, suddenly shy.</p><p>“That depends. As the matriarch of this family, I have punished him for scaring us all. If you’re ready to tell him he’s forgiven, you may join us. But this matter is over, and no one will be remonstrating Alexander further. Is that clear?” Martha asks sternly.</p><p>“He’s forgiven,” John agrees, coming to perch beside Martha on the table and wrap an arm around Alex.</p><p>“Oui, indeed,” Lafayette agrees, coming to stand on the other side of him and kissing his hair. The Frenchman’s big hands pat his back gently.</p><p>“Of course he is,” Washington announces, joining them and wrapping them all up in his arms.</p><p>Alex sinks into their warmth. It’s just about perfect. He hadn’t realized how much he needed real absolution until Martha had provided it, and he feels infinitely better now, cuddled close to the people he loves. If Hercules were here, it would be perfect.</p><p>“It’s good to have you all home,” Martha declares, stroking his hair. Alex burrows further into the cuddle, feeling totally safe and secure for the first time since he’d returned to camp. He’s with his Family, after all.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Notes on everyone's dynamic:</p><p>Alexander Hamilton- SUCH A sub, living publicly as a switch<br/>John Laurens- switch<br/>Lafayette- nondynamic (so he's none of the above!)<br/>Hercules Mulligan- Dom, with definite homodynamic (attracted to other Doms) leanings!<br/>George Washington- Dom<br/>Martha Washington- sub (just for the record, this is NOT a promise she'll turn up)<br/>Charles Lee- sub</p></blockquote></div></div>
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